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Everyone in the world loves kittens, cookies and dolphins. Well actually everyone but me. Kittens kind of freak me out. And dolphins terrify me. Yup they actually terrify me. I know. I guess it’s the fin like presence that reminds me of a shark. It’s the sudden appearance on the water that scares the shit out of me. So I am still getting used to their presence in the water. Anyway back to the point.

From Newquay, the expedition changed. We were all getting into a routine and actually eating a normal amount. When you are supporting someone, their needs are first. You forget to eat and drink and the team were starting to actually look after themselves as well.

From this point on, we were on an endurance adventure. The perfect balance between endurance and adventure with an early and late tide. We moored in idyllic coves, cooked marshmallows on campfires, filmed, swam, photographed, kayaked, visited King Arthur’s castle, caught fish, built campfires, fixed the rib, played crazy golf, swam more, explored secret coves, collected items for the hoarder, swam in private pools.

On day 12, we reached Hartland Quay from Welcome Mouth (yes it is actually called that?!). After some cider and pork scratchings in a very cool fisherman’s pub, we headed to the beach to cook our fish and marshmallows on a fire. After we were full and ready for bed, we got ready to leave and realised, we were going nowhere. Camping on a beach sounds idyllic and it is when you have more than some netting to use as a blanket. Owain’s shoes melted underneath. My jacket was covered in burn holes as we practically slept in the fire. But while I was freezing, I loved it. How often do city slickers get to eat their freshly caught fish on the fire, washed down with some wine and marshmallows and then curl up in front of the fire with Medusa’s hair for a blanket? Not often. And that’s exactly what we did.

After our beach antics, we reached Clovelly. A pedestrian only village. The perfect location for a cult. Privately owned, this little cobbled place is perched on a hill and can only be reached by foot or boat. And it was the perfect end point before a weekend off. What we were going to do without each other for three days, was a scary thought. But off we went. Filled with cream teas and cider.

We are getting into the swing of things. Getting the ‘child’ ready at every moment of the day is a full-time job. I feel like a mother in training. He bleets when he wants something. I pick up after him. I wash his urine covered clothes. I’m joking. (sort of) He’s a very well behaved child but I am in training. And I kept the baby monitor with me at all times over the weekend.

If you’re scared of snakes, you don’t ask for one for your birthday and call it Bob. If you’re scared of the dark, you probably sleep with the light on. And if you’re scared of hugging, you probably dodge that bullet wherever you can. Well I’m scared of the water. And again this summer, I have decided to support a ginger nutter as he attempts to swim a ridiculous distance. Last summer, I stand-up paddle boarded 1001 miles down the Missouri River supporting Dave Cornthwaite as he swam the distance for CoppaFeel breast cancer awareness charity. A year later, I am sitting on a little yacht called Friday While, as I kayak Lands End to John O’Groats supporting Sean Conway as he attempts to become the first person to swim the distance for WarChild UK.

Sean Conway (middle). Ginger. Swimmer. Cries like a baby for food, drinks and massages. Penchant for wearing very little pants.

Owain Wyn –Jones (left). PR god. Dab hand at photography, filming and running the in-house café. Very good at bumping his head on the boat and carrying heavy things.

Jez Fielden (right). Skipper. King of the ship, lord of all beach explorations and the man who finishes everything, especially coffee and Haribo.

Now let’s get back to the beginning. Sunday 30th June. Our start date. Despite a cloudy sky, a delayed skipper and inconvenient tides, Sean swam and I kayaked, with the tide, from Sennen Cove back to Lands End to start the epic adventure. This took 30 minutes. And the return journey took 2 ½ hours. With our friends and family on the rocks. Dolphins jumping around us. We made it back. Speedo kit intact. And a realisation of how immense this challenge was going to be.

Day two is blurred with two words. Sea. Sickness. I have no words to explain how I felt this day. When you are sea sick on holiday, you can lie in a pool of your own vomit and feel sorry for yourself. But when you’re on expedition, as crew captain, you need to man up. Which is hard when you are completely and utterly unable to move. So in between vomits and with sick in my hair, I attempted to prepare protein shakes, get into a wetsuit and kayak alongside Sean. With Owain and Sean puking next to me (Jez is an ocean man) and tides working against us, we decided to pack it in and find our sea legs.

Day three brought us a new start. And a drugged up haze of sea sickness tablets and ginger biscuits. With black clouds in the sky, Sean and I headed back to Sennen for the last time. A BBC Radio interview kicked off the toughest day of the whole expedition. By which point I had already vomited flapjack out of my nose. The wind blew. The rain fell. And we spent six hours in the water with close to no water or food. The tide changed and we were unable to get round Pendeen Lighthouse headland. Finally Sean clambered out over the rocks and I beached a little further down where we buried the kayak and bumped into a very sweaty BBC cameraman who did a segment on us in which I sound very posh, state how lovely it is to see the coastline from this angle and talk about niggles. I have still not lived this down.

Day four put us on two countryside buses to get to the start line and another big session in the water for Sean and me. We made it to St Ives. With huge thanks to Simon and Innes. Without their food and support, these days would have been a lot harder.

I must note at this point, that I suddenly realised (thanks to Jez and Owain for allowing me to attempt it) that I would be kayaking Lands End to John O’Groats, which compared to Conway’s feat is nought. But it looks like I will be the first chick to do it. And while my sea kayaking was getting quite good, my beach landings were close to horrendous. My wipe-outs were slowly and impressively becoming known up the coast. But my muscles were starting to rival the lads.

St Ives to Newquay was a blur of team logistics going wrong, big beaches, massive swells, hitch hiking, amazing people like Beth, the chocolate cake family and Kate and Steve Robarts .

The Robarts took us under their wing. Gave us food and beds for two nights. And a world of wisdom. From this point forward, the expedition was set to change. ‘Niggles’ had been ironed out. We were one unit again. And ready to prove everyone wrong and take this expedition the whole way to bonnie Scotland. My kayaking skills were improving, I had seen dolphins, seals, incredible hidden beaches, nudist hangouts and given a lot of hugs. And while I spend almost 90% of my time terrified of the water that I hate and love all at the same time, let the expedition continue.

One year ago. Almost to the day. I realised I was about to stand-up paddle board 1001 miles down the Missouri River having never paddle boarded before, supporting Dave Cornthwaite who was swimming the distance.

In came Active360 to the rescue. Paul Hyman who had trained the rest of the team, took me out for an hour taster class with my brother. And I was set.

Second piece of advice: If you can’t find someone in the army, then go with someone that has an incredible sense of direction, planning and preparation.

Saturday morning. 8am. We met on a corner in Battersea. Ready to go.

Our team leader (who satisfies both the first and second pieces of advice) had mapped a route that perfectly avoided any motorways or big roads. So while we wished we were on mountain bikes at times, we spent the entire day on small paths, roads and woods.

Third piece of advice: Wear shorts with padded bottoms.

Fourth piece of advice: Bring fruit pastilles. They have never tasted so good.

With various little stops and a big pub lunch we pulled into Brighton at 7pm with sore bottoms, funny backs and no sweets left.

Proud of ourselves. Very proud.

Bikes locked up at the station, we waddled in our smelly kit to Riddle and Finns for some Guinness tankards and scallops. But it was full. Very full. And we didn’t quite fit in.

So we headed just around the corner to Yum Yum Ninja, with the same owners. Wine. Dim sum. Utterly superb food. Not just because we felt we deserved it.

The final day. This was it. 1000 miles already done. We just had to make it to the Gateway Arch of St Louis for 10am and then the ginger would not have to get into a freezing cold wetsuit for a long time. All the alarms went off early and we were out of bed pretty quickly. The post expedition depression was already dawning on us and so we all had watery eyes. I blamed hay fever.

We were going to be hardcore and wear the little shorts, tops and bare feet from the whole journey but then Mike’s kit was so cosy and we just couldn’t turn it down. So we suited up and headed to the cars. Out jumped Jess Giard from Chamberlain and Rod Wellington, another uber adventurer who had paddled almost 2000 miles of the Missouri and had just reached our starting point. They had road tripped 12 hours through the night to join us for the last day and we couldn’t have been more excited. What a treat. Yes. This was the final day and we had amazing people there for us.

We drove in Mike’s car with minimal gear and after packing up the boards, staring in awe at the Chain of Rocks and beating each other up in the sand, we were ready. For the last time. Dale was alongside us in his canoe. And we just headed for the big arch. Of course they got me about four times with made up stories along the way. One being that the story of Rapunzel was actually based on something that happened on the water and the castle she was locked in was this little tower where we put in. Annoyingly I believed it because it was a perfect castle for the story. Grrrrr. Gullible Gimli done again.

We kept going. And the arch got bigger. We were filming. Tweeting. Facebooking. And keeping everyone posted. The coastguard came out. Barge dudes were screaming “are you kidding me?!” The sun was shining. And finally we started to pull in.

Miles, Miguel, Jess, Rod, Dale, Gary, Marsha, Patrick Albert (a blogger who had been following us), some other people and press were all running down and clapping. Lots of friendly faces and a huge arch behind them. Shining in the sun. We had done it. We pulled in. Cameras in our faces. We hugged. Held back tears. And then stood together for the interviews before racing each other up the stairs to the base of the arch. We had done it. Together. The ginger had swum 1000 miles and we had completed the Swim 1000 expedition. I’m not one for getting deep but the its choking me up writing about it now. Boy does it feel good/ sad/ overwhelming/ reflective. This experience has changed my life and I loved every second of it (more of that in the post to follow).

After hugs and all, we piled back to Mikes pad to sort the canoe, send all the kit back to Memphis with Dale, shower and get ready for the evening entertainment. While we emptied the entire expedition onto the grass, Gary and Marsha brought us mini burgers, chips and onion rings. As if they hadn’t done enough?! And we realised that an expedition that takes so much organising and mental and physical strength to do, can be packed up in a couple of hours.

Showered and shiny, we put ourselves in the hands of Miles who drove us all the way to Columbia for his very own college football game. 70,000 people were piled into the stadium of the University of Columbia. Mizzou vs Vandy. What an atmosphere.

We were in a special section and we screamed our heads off. We made lots of friends, felt like we were in ‘One Tree Hill’, danced when the full band marched around, laughed as the helmet car whizzed around, tried to high five the tiger mascot, checked out the cheerleaders and just loved it. Miles is an absolute gem. He treated us to the whole evening and really is an absolute dude.

Now that’s a proper Yankee end to the expedition. All of us passed out within five seconds on the drive home and went straight to bed (party animals) with so much love for everyone we met along the way.

This Sunday was different from the ones before, with no alarm, no boards to pack and no swimmer to tend too. Instead we packed up, said goodbyes, missed the river and ate a delicious breakfast whipped up by Muddy Mike. I even peed outside as the bathroom freaked me out. Skyped my parents and headed to the airport. I write this from the plane. With a blanket over my lap as I flick through the photos of the past 60 days. I’ve already sobbed my way through two films that weren’t even sad. Now its back to reality. But only for a little bit. And to be honest my brain is so strange, it’s never really understood reality. So I’m going to be on the river and on a sandbar in my head. Which is exactly where I want to stay. For a while anyway.

What a pity we barely had time to do anything other than sleep in the Ameristar in St Charles. But boy did we sleep. Deeply and beautifully. Until our alarm reminded us that we had to get up (oh and it was Ben’s birthday). Sleeping in a bed makes you forget about the elements. And the Missouri River, our home for the past 56 days wasn’t going to let us leave quietly. Queue the worst weather we had on the whole trip.

Miles was waiting at the hotel like a star. Grant, a photographer who dresses like a Londoner who we met in Coopers landing jumped on a board in jeans just as we were leaving and Miguel was in the canoe with Ben. Not the best day for guests?! We had to get on the water as quickly as possible as Fox TV were sending a helicopter out to film us from above. So despite the lighting and thunder crashing around us we decided that if a helicopter was coming out, then we would be fine?! Well as the storm got closer, we realised there was no way the helicopter was coming. Which was annoying as it would have really shown people what we were doing. The beautiful views and happy photos cover the Facebook pages, but it’s the weather, the vomit and all that makes it an expedition not a holiday and the helicopter would have shown this.

Until Friday, day 57 of the trip, the penultimate day, I didn’t realise it was possible to vomit in your mouth and temporarily black out from the cold. Well that’s exactly what happened to me. And I wasn’t even in the water. At this point, we postponed Bens birthday until Saturday.

We got to the stage, after attempting to light a few fires, where we went to knock on some houses and ask for temporary shelter. But we had such time constraints and no one was home. This meant we had no choice but to carry on. Water was pouring off the bridges. We tried to eat calorie filled energy bars to keep us going (but could barely open the packet with our fingers). We had to make the 3.7 mile marker and despite the tiny pair of shorts, vest and waterproof jacket that wasn’t waterproof we ploughed on. And we made it. We all went ahead of Ness and Dave. And paddled in silence (not including chattering teeth). And as we approached the marker, we spotted Dales car. Boy I have never been so happy to see someone. He helped us load everything up to the van. Then Muddy Mile appeared. Told us to stop talking, put on proper clothes and he was taking over. I wanted to hug them at that point.

By the time Ness and Dave came we had just finished loading and got them up and into the van. The cold had made us all delirious and we just worked to get everything packed up and us back to Mikes canoe house.

Wow was it nice to get there. Four walls. Yummy food. Hot drinks. Big fleeces. An orange and green hat that Mike gave me. A hat from Mike found on the Big Muddy (which I’ve already decided will make every journey with me).

After a break which seemed to go way too quickly, Mike had us dressed up in wetsuits, boots and all and we were back on the river with the sun going down. We had to reach the confluence where the Mississippi and the Missouri meet. And Dave knew this. He was sheet white and teeth were chattering and he just kept kicking. We were just shouting “you’re so close” etc and just kept going.

At the moment we passed the Mississippi and the Missouri confluence, we all jumped up and down. This was huge. And the following bridge marked the 1000 mile mark. There would be a victory lap to the arch but Dave had swum 1000 miles. And seeing the Mississippi flowing in was a big moment. With all the barges and clear water. It meets the big muddy. And the year before, Dave had seen it when he paddled the Mississippi. This is where the idea for the swim began. And now he had swum the 1000 miles.

This was it. We had reached the chain of rocks. In the pitch black. Piled the delirious ginger into the van and took him back to Mikes for supper and cupcakes for Bens birthday, bed and a mental preparation for the final 9 miles. He had already done something that everyone thought was impossible. And all for boobies.

It’s the final countdown. We’re set to reach the Gateway Arch on Saturday 6th October. And it’s the Thursday before. In London time, when you’re wishing away the days, that’s basically the weekend. So we needed to nail quite a few miles to make sure we made it. Up at 5am, in the pitch black we packed up from the anonymous sand-coloured-rock-bar, which we never saw in the light, and cracked on. A ginger in the water. In the utterly freezing water. And we were off.

First stop was Washington. Miguel, the superb film and photography king, who had started with us all the way back in Chamberlain, was coming to capture the end of the trip. Hopefully with all of us in a bit more control of our boards, with a bit of a tan and the ginge moving through the water swimmingly (Sorry. I couldn’t help myself).

He was hitting the water with the infamous Big Muddy Mike. A legend on the river. The kind of dude you would want to stumble across if you were in trouble. He knows his stuff. And he’s an absolute hero on top of that with a passion for food as well as adventure. I think I’m in love?!

While we waited, a chick came running down from the local radio to interview us and with no sign of the others, Dave and I carried on. Finally, we saw them approaching in the distance. I say finally, because I was bored of Corn (Joking… but feel like I need to bully him as much as I can before I leave). So we pulled over at the next boat ramp. Mike lived up to his name by whipping out a knife and chopping up fresh avocados right then and there and making fresh guacamole. Miguel and Big Muddy joining us marked the end of the journey and it was fast approaching. The sun was out. It was day 56 and we had 42 miles to do. What a treat to have Mike and his canoe of goodies. So on day 56 instead of dreaming about proper food, we were made fresh bagels with cheese, turkey and salad with a side of tortilla chips. And humous and bagels for tea. All with cold juice. How luxurious.

The sun started to go. We were determined to reach St Charles to make sure we were on track. But the amazing food/ 56 days of swimming meant Dave kept throwing up as he was swimming and intense cramps started to become a permanent fixture. But he’s one hardcore adventurer.

Finally, as we passed a bridge close to our end spot, we saw a guy screaming at us. Being practically blind, I thought it was a crazy person but it was Miles from the Isle of Capri hotel in Boonville. He was the dude that thought we were rock stars and once he heard about the swim, said he would help and walked off. Miles offering to help was an understatement. He screamed at us to stop at the Ameristar under the next bridge. And after we shot past him screaming there, we pulled in at the Lewis and Clark museum and unloaded.

And guess who we found there… Dale Sanders. Oh yes. One of the top notch people in the world was back. Daves old friend who had joined us in Chamberlain wasn’t going to miss the end. What a hero.

Miles, Dale and Mike helped us out, packed us up and carted us to the Ameristar hotel on the river in St Charles. It’s utterly enormous. Think Vegas. Think of a land for giants. With so many bright lights. Ceilings for twenty people high. Miles treated us to two rooms with giant beds, beautiful bathrooms and three televisions for one room. Just in case you don’t want to miss anything when you’re in the hot tub! If anything was going to strengthen the ginger and the team for their final big day on the water, it was going to be Dale, Muddy, Miles and a giant bed. And we had all of the above.

I guess one problem with getting stuck into the routine of city life is you don’t get to constantly meet new people from around the world. Well on a casual Tuesday we met more people in a day than James Bond sleeps with in one movie. We woke with smoke coming out of our mouths it was so cold. And a sneaky body snoozing on the beach next to us. The expected Jeff had paddled upstream in the middle of the night to reach us and made it around 2am. How many guys do you meet that would do that?!

We set out early with Jody on a board and Jeff in his kayak. Dave’s body has had enough of swimming. Now he is regularly vomiting while swimming and the cold water is scarily unbearable for him. His whole body is white. And that’s not down to his ginger tone. He’s dealing with cold weather, water and a stomach that can’t hack to do another stroke. But it will. After some logistical change overs between Jody and Jeff, we whipped out the Primus and cooked on the move as we charged towards Hermann.

As we neared our destination, a speed boat with the amazing Gary Leabman from the infamous Spirit Hill B and B, Susan Haley who heads up the Girls With Tops Down breast cancer charity and Jeff Noedel from Country Live News, came to end the day with us.

Behind us the sun was setting with a distinctive line at the end of the clouds. This was lit up orange and reflected in the water. I think it was one of my best sunsets I’ve ever seen. And even though I’m incredibly enthusiastic I think it wins. Hands down.

What a welcome we got in Hermann. Lots of people. And after photos, chats, goodbyes to the cracking Jody and hello hugs with everyone else, we were driven to Gary’s home. I got to ride with Susan in a pink convertible with the Girls With Tops Down boat attached behind. The remnants of the charity parade that had happened the weekend before.

Gary and his wife Marsha welcomed us into their home. After nearly 60 days on the river, this was our first move back into civilisation. We were each given our own, quirkily designed en suite bedrooms. After we washed, we were fed amazing nibbles and wine, before an absolutely delicious dinner with a cracking bunch including Sue’s husband, Jeff, and Mick (who made me laugh hysterically). We actually sat round a table and felt like we were back in real life. What a night of beautiful food, wine, company and curtains open for the morning in preparation for the view.

After a slightly broken (as emails buzz in my brain when we are back in reality?) but amazingly comfortable sleep, we woke up to bubbling oatmeal and pumpkin cupcakes, all with the Missouri river in the background.

Tummies filled, hugs had, we were back on the water with an extra team mate… Gary came out in his canoe. It’s such a treat to have extra people join the team. Especially when they are people like Gary that have taken us under their wing. We covered some good miles, even with a brief stop to say goodbye to Gary. And we kept going, into the dark. Now, every day we see spectacular sandbars. Beautiful, long, wide, stretching sandbars. And every time we are ready to camp, they disappear. Every time. And this day was so exception. Finally in the shadows of the dark, we found a spot, and luckily it wasn’t a hallucination it was indeed a sandbar. Well a bar. As the sand was actually sand coloured rocks. But it was perfect, even though we couldn’t see it, and we took up our regular spot with a campfire and tents.

It’s very odd to think that next Wednesday, I will be back in the office, running around for press week at the magazine. Very odd. But this Wednesday I was snuggled up on a sandbar getting bullied by Ben and Dave, munching on supper on a rock covered sandbar and sleeping on a giant boobie. And there is nowhere I would rather be.

We were starting to feel quite at home at the casino. Wandering round bare foot. Getting into a routine. And during an endurance adventure, that’s a dangerous place to be as your feet soften and your brain turns to mush. Well for me it does. But we got a lot of stuff done. Blogging. Editing. Videos. Making contacts. Eating more than than the American Football team players sitting next to us at breakfast. Very impressive I tell you. We achieved a lot. And the final one I was extremely proud of.

A day behind, on Sunday 30th September, we set out again. Lugging our bags down the muddy, rock covered access point, we helped Ness pack up. Ness unfortunately was now unwell and was just going to have to suck it up. And boy she did a good job. Urgent loo stop aren’t the easiest thing when you’re in a team, ploughing down the river to make St. Louis. And as the support team, we can’t hold back the ginger. Miss Vanessa Knight kept going. Unwashed and wrapped up, she literally went in and out of sanity on the board. And came out the other side. What a hero.

What a day to get back on the river. Even though it was a Sunday, there were no boats and everything was quiet. This stretch of river was beautiful. Incredible bluffs. Encroaching cliffs. Idyllic sandbars. The trees are turning red as fall kicks in around us. And a cycle route showed up alongside us. At the end of the day, a quiet adventure dude called Dan White showed up in his canoe/ sail boat/ speed boat invention and paddled with us into Coopers Landing. We love when people join. Just love it.

Now Coopers Landing. Wow. For the first time, we were welcomed with a full service boat ramp directly focused on people using the river. You can go through huge cities and not find a spot to pull your boat out of the water. But Coopers Landing is on the water. It has its own boat ramp, shop, campsite, toilets, stage for music, petrol and all. It is full serviced but with a hippie vibe. Campfires going. Fellow adventure nuts crowded round. Country music being performed. I could have moved there in a second. Especially when we discovered there was a Thai trailer with food known all around.

The laid back Mike and adorable Keira run the place. And we met naked Dave and his wife Janet, who is set to become the first woman to paddle the Missouri. We ate (and yes it was out of this world) with them and heard their stories. Not only did Janet have amazing teeth but she was exactly my type of lady. What a woman. I really hope I will see her again. At some point. We pretty much thought the same about everything. And we were doing something about it. Love that.

On top of that, Jodi who came to the talk at the casino showed up hoping to see us and with her camping kit in the car from the weekend, decided to come with us and paddle for a couple of days. There are some spectacular adventure chicks around. And we are gathering them into our little bubble.

Just another Monday. Notttttt. A very cold morning anyway. And with Ness still not well we had a few extra minutes in bed. But once we were up, there was already a campfire lit. And we met river rat, Jeff and photographer Grant. Oh and also Jodi with her bags and British accent all ready. With waves goodbye and lots of hugs, we headed off with a new team member nicknamed Teamie. Original.

Tuesday is normally a bit of an odd day for me in real life but here it was crisp and cold but beautiful and sunny. We crossed through Jefferson City, the state capital of Missouri with its big powerful buildings. We saw a huge barge dredging the channel. We cooked lunch in the Mad River Canoe on the Primus as we paddled. We comforted the ginger while he vomited his way through the day. We think his body has had enough of the water and is just refusing to enjoy it now. But we are so close.

And at the end of the day we found a perfect sandbar. With a perfect view. Ben made an incredible fire. Dave made a full on washing line. And we ate supper around it. This was all very relaxing until Teamie joined in the practical jokes using her missing finger (which I hadn’t noticed in the day). Picture me searching the river in the dark for her finger. Actually you don’t have to because there will be another episode about that. Including the part in which Jody explains that she lost her finger to a Hook Snake which puts its tail in its mouth and only goes downhill. I can’t even defend myself here.

So we went back to fire, ate some chocolate and carried on our evening. Our new friend Jeff said he was going to come and camp with us but with still no sign we went to bed and hoped he was ok?!

We had reached the 135 mile marker. Now we are almost in double figures. What a moment. We are nearly there. And hopefully people will donate to CoppaFeel when they see Dave has actually swum 1000 miles down the Missouri River. Because we are an embarrassing amount away from our target, and we need to get closer. Maybe finishing it will make a difference and then we will all continue to spread the word about checking your boobs. It could save your life.

Bring on Boonville. We were up and out by 6.45. With Ben realising that the slice of pizza he ate in the middle of night had been covered in ants. Nice. We were all excited to get to Boonville. Its’ casino. And face-to-face fundraising. We even made breakfast on the go to get there.

Now, Thursday this week was a tough day for me. Firstly the team told me to paddle upstream to collect a rhinosaurus buffalo skull. Yes I know. I fell for it. It was a piece of wood. Following this came several hours of humiliation for me. Where the ginger pushed me in, again and again. Then blamed me for losing a paddle. Which was hidden. And then left me behind, soaking wet with clothes floating around. I wanted to take that “lost paddle” and shove it where the sun don’t shine. The gingers ear to ear grin made it worse!

As I caught up to the others, they broke the news that we had read the map wrong and actually had 18 miles until Boonville. But were approaching a city called Atlantis. An underwater city. Now I’m not going to ruin the next episode of Gullible Gimli (which is the series that Corn has made to share my most humiliatingly gullible moments with the world. So check out Expedition 1000 if you want to find out more?!) but I’d say my response included claiming there was a Greek story about a city underwater of the same name. And a resort in Dubai. I then got told I had been played and somehow they managed to trick me again. Wow.

Well on a positive note, Boonville was close and we just had to look out for some orange cones in between two bridges. There we were welcomed by an amazing team from the Isle of Capri casino including Andy, Heather and Barron. We managed to unload against rocks with the help of everyone. Tied the boards to trees. And they took our bags up and over a railway track. We were covered in mud. Totally covered. And we were given beautiful rooms. Double beds. Andy even brought extra shampoo for my dreaded hair. And we made ourselves at home with serious love for everyone who helped us.

After showers, laundry and general admin, we went and got some nachos and chips (They were actual crisps. But we are so american these days) and settled into the balcony above the enormous gaming floor.

Dave did a talk. Rocked it. And we chatted away to three chicks called Jody, Mel and Megan. Exactly the kind of people you want to meet. We then hit the gambling floor. Had a couple of drinks. Sat with Ben while he gambled a wee bit. Watched him win $90. And then had to be taken away as realised I have an addictive personality. Luckily I managed to stay in my room and slept like a baby.

It’s not every day you wake up on a Friday in a casino hotel in Boonville, Missouri. Well we did. And I stretched out in my massive bed. My alarm had gone off to remind me that I had to make the all you can eat breakfast. So of course I ate all I could eat. Cereal, fruit, yoghurt, apple juice, bagels, eggs, bacon, ketchup, jam, pancakes, French toast and maple syrup. Yup. I know. It was disgusting. But I was slightly proud of myself. Even if my mum wants to cry when reading this. Love you mum.

Andy helped us with everything. We did a shop, inventory of the canoe, laundry, filled up water bottles, dried out tents and felt ready to go. But unfortunately the ginger was feeling a tad under the weather. Probably had something to do with 50 days of river inside him?!

So we got everything done, reconnected with the world and even managed to fit in a radio interview with Zac from The University of Columbia for KBIA.

My day ended in a big double bed. With a chicken wrap the size of my head. Snuggled in bed with the team watching random shows on ice diving for gold and blogging. This is the life. We wait to see how the ginger feels before hitting the river and nailing the rest of this epic journey. Isle of Capri we love you. Missouri we love you. And boobies we always love you.